


A Dip in the Pool

by theladyscribe



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2004 NHL Entry Draft, First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, Pittsburgh Penguins, Washington Capitals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 06:24:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11915043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyscribe/pseuds/theladyscribe
Summary: Sidney feels a little bit like a show-pony, on display even though he’s not even eligible to be drafted until next year. It doesn’t help that there’s tension in the air, the possibility of a lockout looming large over the festivities. Everyone knows who Sidney is, and all of the executives greet him with smiles that are a little too fake and assurances that "hockey will happen, you mark my words."Sidney knows better than to believe that before he sees it, but he just nods and answers back, "I'm looking forward to it."





	A Dip in the Pool

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen very few fics that make use of the fact that Sid attended the 2004 Draft. This is a little one-shot about it.
> 
> Many thanks to nadler and hazel3017 for the beta work. All remaining mistakes are my own.

Attending the draft is weird. Sidney feels a little bit like a show-pony, on display even though he’s not even eligible to be drafted until next year. It doesn’t help that there’s tension in the air, the possibility of a lockout looming large over the festivities.

His minders for the weekend are his dad (a little wide-eyed alongside Sidney) and a representative from his agent’s office (an intern clearly bored out of her mind with keeping tabs on a sixteen-year-old kid and his dad). Sidney doesn’t mind having twin shadows, but he does wish he could explore the events on his own. He might get to make some friends, maybe even meet some of his future teammates.

As it is, all of his meet-and-greet opportunities have been carefully orchestrated by the league and Brisson’s office. They have a tendency toward awkwardness, especially since they’ve been set up in reverse draft order and with pre-season team rankings in mind. Sidney thinks he wasn’t supposed to know that, but it’s obvious, since the day started with the Lightning and Sidney still hasn’t met Alex Ovechkin or Evgeni Malkin. Everyone knows who Sidney is, and all of the executives greet him with smiles that are a little too fake and assurances that "hockey will happen, you mark my words."

Sidney knows better than to believe that before he sees it, but he just nods and answers back, "I'm looking forward to it."

The meetings with the draft prospects are even more awkward. Many of the boys waiting to be drafted have clearly already formed their opinions about Sidney. They’re all polite enough, but Sidney sort of wishes they’d declined the invitation from the league, even though he knows that it would have been taken as a deliberate snub.

After dinner with Brisson and Kate the intern, Sidney and his dad go back to the hotel. Sidney feels like he met half the league today. He's weary, but he also feels jittery, an itch under his skin that won't go away. His dad is clearly settling in for the night, already dressed for bed, but Sidney says, "I'm gonna check out the pool, maybe swim some laps."

His dad looks at him over his reading glasses. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Sidney shakes his head. "I'll take a key."

"All right. Have fun. Don't be gone too long."

When Sidney walks into the pool area, he finds he’s not alone; there are two other boys already splashing around. It takes him a moment to parse that they’re not shouting English at each other and another to realize that it’s Alex Ovechkin and Evgeni Malkin trying to dunk each other in the deep end.

Their game seems to be a variation on Marco Polo, with far more noise and movement than when Sidney plays it with Taylor. It looks like fun. Sidney is torn between wanting to join them and not wanting to be the person that invites himself to their party. He lingers at his lounge chair for a moment before finally deciding that he came here to swim laps and that's what he's going to do. If they’re still there when he’s done, then he’ll introduce himself.

He slips into the pool in the shallow end and starts swimming, careful to avoid the havoc the other two boys are creating. It works, until he’s doing an underwater lap and he feels someone tug on his ankle.

Sidney splutters to a stop, coming up for air and rounding on whoever grabbed his ankle. It’s the Russians; Ovechkin is smiling, but Malkin is grinning even wider. He says something to Sidney, a joke, judging by the way he laughs around his words.

“He say you look like angry wet cat,” says Ovechkin. “He also say it’s rude you swim without hello.”

Sidney purses his lips but stops when he remembers that the agency rep had told him it made him look sour. “I didn’t want to bother you,” he admits at last.

Ovechkin laughs and says something to Malkin, who frowns and says something back to him. Ovechkin translates, “Zhenya say we’re not bothered. He think you should play tag too. It’s why he tag you.”

Malkin looks a little sheepish now, like _he’s_ embarrassed, when really it’s Sidney who should be embarrassed.

“Oh, okay,” Sidney says. Belatedly, he remembers he hasn’t actually introduced himself. He holds out a hand. “I’m Sidney.”

Ovechkin laughs again. “We know. You know us, yes?”

Sidney nods, still holding his hand out awkwardly. To his surprise, Malkin takes it and shakes it seriously. “Evgeni Malkin,” he says, and Sidney despairs because there’s no way he’ll ever be able to pronounce it correctly. “Nice to meet.”

“And I’m Alex,” Ovechkin says, pushing Malkin away so he can also shake hands with Sidney. “Now, come play tag.”

It doesn't take long for tag to devolve into cannonballs and dunking each other, the three of them laughing and shouting, their voices echoing in the otherwise empty space. It's not a proper workout or a cool-down, but Sidney feels loose and warm, less anxious about having to hobnob with strangers and future rivals again tomorrow.

And at least two of those future rivals aren't strangers anymore. When they've had their fill of splashing around, the three of them hang off the side of the pool, idly kicking the water and talking about the draft events.

"We see baseball game today," Ovechkin tells Sidney, diligently translating between English and Russian for him and Malkin. "It's boring game, not fast like hockey."

Malkin elbows Ovechkin and asks a question.

"Zhenya wants know what you do today."

Sidney tells them about meeting with staff from some of the front offices and about the gear he got to test out at the CCM and Bauer booths and all the stickers and pens and notepads people kept giving him. He supposes he'll get to do more of the same tomorrow, before the dinner and the draft itself. He'd rather have gone to the baseball game.

The topic drifts to the possibility of a lockout, because of course it does, and Sidney asks the Russians what they'll do if it happens.

"We stay in Superleague," Ovechkin says, shrugging casually. "I play for Dynamo another year, Zhenya play for Metallurg Magnitogorsk. We come to NHL when lockout ends."

Malkin doesn't seem to need translation for this. Over Sidney's shoulder, he rumbles something that Ovechkin translates as, "Maybe we rookies all together. All three of us win, no, compete for rookie award — what you call it?"

"The Calder?"

Ovechkin grins. "Yes, Calder!"

They lapse into silence once they've exhausted Ovechkin's translation skills. Malkin pushes off the wall to float on his back while Ovechkin puts his legs on the pool ledge and leans back until his back is flush against the pool wall, his head and torso underwater, before coming back up and going under again. Sidney treads water for a while and then glances up at the clock. It's gotten late enough that his dad is probably starting to wonder about him.

Sidney ducks under the water and swims the length of the pool back to the shallow end. When he comes up for air, he's startled to find Malkin next to him.

"Race?" Malkin asks, looking hopeful.

Sidney shakes his head and points at the clock. "It's late. I should go."

Malkin's face falls, but he doesn't try to stop Sidney from climbing out of the pool. He stays in the water but follows Sidney's path to where his towel and key card are. While Sidney attempts to dry off with the tiny towel, Malkin asks another question, but Ovechkin is half underwater again and can't translate. Malkin glares at Ovechkin's feet before turning back to Sidney.

"To — tomorrow," he says, stumbling over the English word.

Sidney isn't sure if Malkin means he wants to race tomorrow, or if he'll see him tomorrow, but he smiles and says, "Yeah, for sure, tomorrow."

Malkin smiles back. "Tomorrow," he repeats, more sure this time.

When Sidney gets back to their room, his dad is still up, reading his book. "How was the pool?" he asks, not taking his eyes off the page. "Get some laps in?"

"Yeah," says Sidney from the bathroom as he changes clothes. "It was pretty good."

His dad places his bookmark and closes the book. "You ready for lights out? Another big day tomorrow."

Sidney slips under the covers of his bed. "Yeah. I am."


End file.
